


I can't take you to heaven

by BrokenBones (Hikarinimichitasora)



Series: One Shots and Writing Prompts [4]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Breathplay, Happy halloween, M/M, serial killer au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 20:39:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1023143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hikarinimichitasora/pseuds/BrokenBones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's the twelfth confirmed victim. The time span between this one and he last has reduced. He's stepping up his game," Uhura said softly. Jim sighed and tried his best not to think too hard about how that meant there were six he'd already failed to save.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I can't take you to heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Please note ALL the warnings. Thank you.

Happy Halloween!

  
**I Can't Take You To Heaven**   
_A Serial Killer AU for Halloween_   


She was beautiful, pale skin and soft lines. She cried and screamed and it was like the voice of a cherubim come down from heaven itself. He was going to protect her. She wasn't going to be hurt by this world.  
  
The gentle incisions, parting pale white flesh carefully. She cried but it would be over soon and she would be back in heaven, back where she belonged.

His trousers were uncomfortably tight. He willed himself not to react, but he always did. Something about his prayer resulting in arousal that spread up his spine and down his hips. He was dirty, a filthy sinner who didn't deserve to exist on the same plane as these girls.

"Please, please, please, please," the girl, barely 17 years old, gasped, begged, whispered. He felt his heart beat hard once in his chest.

"It's alright sweetheart. It won't hurt anymore soon..."  
//

"It's the twelfth confirmed victim. The time span between this one and he last has reduced. He's stepping up his game," Uhura said softly. Jim sighed and tried his best not to think too hard about how that meant there were six he'd already failed to save.

This killer was unlike any Jim had come across before. He didn't just murder, he debased. He cut out vital organs when the victims were still alive. Some had evidence if being fed their own internal organs. He always removed the heart, setting it on the chest of the victim after he sewed them back up.

His incisions were careful and perfect, almost certainly trained medically in some capacity. He didn't caused any damage that he hadn't intended and Jim knew that forensics were a little impressed at how beautifully he seemed to close up.

He also almost certainly did unspeakable things to the victims body. Jim wasn't entirely sure if the sexual assault was when they were still alive or dead, and he didn't want to think about it too much, profile be damned, but it still had left them with very little to go on other than that the guy used KY and Trojans.

"Jim I don't understand what he wants. I mean why is he doing this?" Uhura asked as she crouched down, surveying the body with cool observant eyes. Jim sighed and crouched down next to her, resting a gloved hand against her papery forensics suit. Six girls... Six more tampered with after death.

"We are dealing with a highly intelligent psychopath here. We might never know what he wants, but eventually he'll screw up. And then, then we'll catch the bastard."

//

Jim went to a bar after his shift that night. Everyone was working flat out on the case and he needed a break, needed a drink almost desperately. He pulled up a stool at the bar and gestured to the barman.

He was surprised when the stool next to him was taken. He turned to tell the person where to go but was met by breathtaking hazel eyes and a full mouth that looked like it would be perfect wrapped around his cock.

"Mind if I join ya?" And dear god the voice was honeyed perfection and Jim found himself nodding, licking his lips slightly. The barman left two tumblers and a bottle and Jim poured them both a drink.

"What should we drink to?" The stranger asked and Jim considered his options.

"To getting good work done," he said firmly before knocking back the drink and pouring himself another. The stranger mirrored his toast but sipped his a little more carefully, clearly more interested in enjoying the taste than Jim was.

"The name's Jim Kirk," he said, holding up his newly refilled glass. The stranger raised and eyebrow, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"McCoy. Leonard McCoy. I already knew who you are. You've been all over the news lately after all," McCoy said, taking another sip of the amber liquid. Jim sighed and rubbed the back of his head. Of course, another murder groupie looking for details on the case.

"Look, I'm not going to tell you any information about the case if that's what you're after. It's best you just go chat up a journalist or something if you want that," he said irritated. He hunched in his stool, swirling the whiskey in his glass.

"Oh no, you've misunderstood," McCoy said and his smirk stretched across his face completely. "I'm not interested in the case, Jim, I'm interested in you."

//

Jim's clothes were strewn everywhere. McCoy had stripped him down hungrily, kissing along every inch of him until his blood was pumping hard in his veins and he was euphoric in a way he hadn't ever felt with another human before.

It was like McCoy was the devil that had come to town to tempt him and Jim could feel the fire deep in his stomach as McCoy's tongue lapped over his hip bone. McCoy looked up from where he was, on his knees before Jim, still fully dressed compared to Jim's nakedness, still in complete control while Jim was coming apart at the seams already.

It had never felt like this. Not one of his one night stands had ever felt this good before. Not even when he'd laid with angels. Perhaps McCoy was Lucifer himself...? Jim's thoughts were interrupted by the feel of a smooth tongue running along the main vein of his shaft, causing his breathing to hitch.

"Look at you... You really are beautiful," McCoy drawled, his words and breath hot against Jim's excited cock. He could barely stop the keening sound when McCoy pulled away.

The other stood and Jim pulled him close, revelling in the feel of cool cloth against his overheated skin. McCoy tasted of whiskey, which wasn't how an angel would taste, but might be how the devil did. He couldn't pull back though, tangling their tongues together instead until he was breathless and panting.

McCoy's hands were everywhere all at once, making Jim feel dizzy as he was pressed into the bed. McCoy didn't remove his shirt, but he did unzip his pants, revealing a cock that made Jim's mouth water in desire to taste it.

He wasn't given the opportunity though. McCoy was already between his legs, his thighs spreading Jim's own as his soft hands worked between them, grasping both of their cocks and bringing them together, the friction making Jim squeeze his eyes closed.

"You know, I've been watching you for a while," McCoy said, squeezing tightly before he leaned forward, kissing Jim's mouth hard. Jim opened his mouth obediently, letting McCoy's tongue sweep through his mouth, feeling it sweep over his palette, feeling teeth scrape carefully against his lips.

"You're less famous than me, I guess. Though you have me to thank for that... Covering your tracks and all..." McCoy murmured against the corner of Jim's mouth and he tried to remember what the other was talking about.

"But the game is getting boring isn't it? They're never going to capture us..." McCoy's mouth moved to his neck, dragging teeth over his pulse point as he tightened his fist around Jim's cock. Jim felt his spine arch.

"Capture us...?" Jim repeated before it came together in his mind, crystal clear. McCoy had approached him, had sought him out, not because he was in charge of the case, but because McCoy thought they were the same.

Jim let out a sharp cry as he felt his orgasm ripped unwillingly from his body, his toes curling as he felt his body betray his mind. McCoy followed soon after, painting Jim's body with stripes of cum that Jim had no doubt McCoy would prefer was blood.

"You're... You're the killer!" He forced out. McCoy out a hand over his mouth, preventing him from speaking further.

"And you're making angels. How many girls has it been now, Jimmy? Six? Almost half my accredited kill count has been spent covering YOUR tracks, making your beautiful angels look more like my own handiwork. You should thank me. They have no idea they're dealing with two killers," McCoy said and he let his hand drift off Jim's mouth to come between them, gently stroking over the wet mess they'd made.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jim hissed, trying to push the other off but entranced by the way McCoy lifted their combined semen to his mouth, licking his fingertips.

"No? Then tell me, Jim, when you call them sweetheart, when you slowly peel away their humanity, how does it make you feel?" He asked and Jim swallowed, knew he was caught.

"We aren't the same. I honour those girls! You just... Just cut up their corpses to see what makes them tick! You dishonour them after I've worked so hard to-" His rant was cut shirt by McCoy's mouth pressing against his again. He tried to fight against the other, pulling up his hands and trying to wrap them around McCoy's neck, but the other was faster, pulling back to hit him across the face hard.

He reeled for a moment before he felt McCoy's fingers at his entrance, pressing forward with spunk and spit slicked fingers. He struggled, but only until McCoy's free hand wrapped around his neck, squeezing menacingly.

"I can make you an angel too, Jimmy," McCoy whispered, fingers working in and out of Jim savagely. Jim arched his back, trying to get away but only managing to send the intruding digits further inside him. They brushed his prostrate making him keen.

"You can't make me an angel," he hissed but McCoy chuckled and pressed down harder on Jim's neck. He felt lightheaded but his cock as full. He began to float, eyes wide and bright.

"No? I can make you taste heaven, Jim. Let me... Let me do this for you. Let me take you to them," McCoy whispered and Jim felt his vision dimming slightly as his oxygen deprived brain began to struggle to keep his vision straight.

"I'll make you beautiful Jim. You, just you. The only one that I'll kill and leave beautiful. I won't cut you up, I won't hurt you after you've gone... An angel, Jimmy, a beautiful angel..." McCoy as whispering and Jim couldn't fight back any further. His throat was suddenly released and he gulped down breath, coughing and desperately trying to force air into his lungs.

McCoy didn't draw back though, gripping Jim's hair and forcing their mouths together. Jim tried to draw away but McCoy's grip was like a vice, his other hand still working Jim open, sending sick waves of pleasure through him.

McCoy kept him there what felt like hours, the pleasure and pain meaning that he couldn't think, couldn't stop it and began to question if he wanted to. McCoy's whispered promises of making him an angel, of taking him to where he'd out those girls, lit hope in his heart he hadn't had in so long.

McCoy could cleanse his soul, with this pain and pleasure. McCoy was his Lucifer, tempting him with sin but an angel once, and maybe again. Maybe he could make him lure again, wash the blood from his hands?

When McCoy finally pushed inside him, he came almost instantly, his body gripping McCoy's cock tightly as he rode out his orgasm with a prayer on his lips. McCoy's hands returned to his throat and his lips were covered with McCoy's own. He soon couldn't breathe, his lungs burned, but he just slid a hand into McCoy's hair, stroking through it.

"That's it Jimmy... Give in to me..."

//

They found Jim Kirk's body laid out in bed. On the wall a portrait of the gates of heaven had been drawn in blood, it the blood wasn't Jim's. It appeared to belong to some other man, not on the databases but almost certainly the killer.

Kirk hadn't been dismembered, hadn't had any organ removed but his heart. Unusually, the heart was not laid on top of the body, but was missing entirely. There were no other marks of abuse, apart from bruising around Jim's neck and abrasions implying sexual assault.

The killer had even left behind DNA in the form of semen.

It perplexed Uhura. Were they even looking at the same killer as before? Or had he been unable to do to Jim what he'd done to the others? Perhaps with Jim being a police detective or being male...?

"Lieutenant Uhura?"

She turned, glancing over her shoulder. The new forensics guy looked at her, his face a little pale, his mouth set in a firm grim line.

"Doctor McCoy? Sorry. Jim was a friend. I can't believe that he... That like this..." She said, gesturing to the corpse. McCoy nodded to her, putting his hand on her shoulder and letting her cry on him.

His eyes never left Jim's corpse.


End file.
